Blue Eyes

March 16, 2012
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The piano fills the room,
Sun sneaking through the stained glass,
A stream running down her cheek,
His innocent blue eyes,
Looking up at her.
A soft hand grasping her finger.
A tight feeling in her throat forms,
As she looks down at him.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Whispers and sobs behind her
Pound on the pieces of her heart.
She stands up, walks to the podium,
Begins to speak.
Those blue eyes again,
This time full of life,
The last time she ever saw them.

She looks over to where her son rests,
In a wooden casket now.





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